LOGINChapter 6
Dante pov The silence between us was thick, and I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face. I could see the way she wanted to speak—her mouth twitched, and her thoughts were like a parade of unwelcome questions. But I wasn’t in the mood for her probing today. I was still trying to shake off the unease that settled in my chest after seeing her earlier. Something in her expression, something in her silence had stirred a part of me I wasn’t ready to confront. I turned my eyes back to the window, pretending to be absorbed in the landscape blurring by. I wasn’t going to let her get to me. Not this time. Her voice finally broke the silence, light and casual, like she was asking for the weather forecast. “You knew I was going to ask.” I couldn’t help the small, sharp laugh that escaped me. “Alina, you’re simple to read.” I turned to face her, and my eyes locked with hers. She was playing that same game again, the one where she pretended to be uninterested, detached. But I could see the flicker of frustration hiding behind her mask. “I just don’t get it, Dante,” she said, adjusting her legs and shifting in her seat. There was that casual tone again, like she was trying to mask her irritation with nonchalance. It didn't work. “You’re smart, right? But you can’t just keep avoiding the question.” I chuckled, shaking my head. "People pass through you so easily because you're simple. You don’t even try to hide it." I immediately regretted saying it, feeling the words burn in my chest. There was something about Alina that, when I looked too closely, made me want to tear her apart—piece by piece. She had this way of getting under my skin that nobody else did. And yet, for some ridiculous reason, I still found myself drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. Alina's face tightened, but she didn’t say anything. She just crossed her arms over her chest, her lips curling into that sharp, mocking smile that made me want to rip it off her face. “Whatever. Keep your secrets, then,” she muttered. “But you’ll regret not telling me sooner.” I bit back the impulse to say something even worse. I didn’t need to lose my temper right now. Especially not with her. Just as I was about to say something, the door to the driver’s seat swung open, and the driver slid in, signaling the end of our little exchange. The engine roared to life, and the car sped off. I couldn't resist sneaking another glance at Alina. She was staring at me now, her gaze unwavering. It made something inside me stir—an uncomfortable feeling that I couldn’t quite shake. Her eyes were intense, and I could swear I saw a hint of something in them. I leaned back in my seat, straightening my collar in a deliberate, cocky move. “Someone’s falling for my good looks,” I teased, voice dripping with sarcasm. I caught her eye, almost daring her to react. Her response came so quickly it was like a slap across the face. “Tell that to the devil, because you’re not my type.” The words hit me harder than I expected. My jaw dropped, and I leaned in closer, eyes narrowing. "You're also not my type of lady." A burst of laughter escaped her lips, a low, mocking sound. “Good. Because you’re just a business partner to me, Dante.” Her tone was colder now, almost icy, and I could feel the tension growing between us. “That’s it. Just business. Nothing more, nothing less.” I didn't know whether to be pissed or amused. She was trying to shut me out, to act like I meant nothing to her. But I could tell it wasn’t entirely true. There was something else simmering beneath her words, something raw and unspoken. “I hate women who aren’t smart,” I said, before I could stop myself. Alina's eyes flared with anger. Her whole body tensed as if she was preparing to strike. "Excuse me?" she snapped, her voice like a whip cracking through the air. "Are you calling me dumb, Dante?" My heart skipped a beat. “No,” I said, quickly, before I could dig myself into a deeper hole. “I’m just stating a fact. You’ve got this attitude, but there’s nothing under the surface.” Her face twisted in disgust. "I’m not playing your games. And I’m not sticking around for this." She whipped her head around to the driver, her voice sharp and commanding. “Stop the car.” The driver, a man I’d hired for his ability to follow instructions without question, hesitated for a moment. “Stop the car!” she repeated, this time her voice even more forceful. I could feel my temper rising as I leaned forward. “You don’t get to make demands here, Alina.” I clenched my fist against the seat, trying to steady myself. “Just sit back and relax. We’re going where I need to go.” “No,” she said, her voice calm now, but cold. “If you don’t stop this car, I’ll open the door myself and fall out. See how you like that.” I smirked, an unsettling mix of disbelief and amusement bubbling inside me. She really was determined to push my buttons. “Do it, then,” I dared her. “But the driver keeps driving. You can’t escape that easily.” She glared at me, her fists clenched, her eyes flashing. “You think you can talk to me like that? You think you can just—” I spoke quickly, cutting her off. “Carlos.” The driver didn’t flinch, but his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. I switched to Spanish without thinking, speaking directly to him, my words sharp. “Sigue conduciendo. Llévame al penthouse, no a la mansión.” I watched her closely, the moment of silence hanging between us. Her face twisted with confusion. “What did you just say?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. I leaned back in my seat, watching her with a mixture of amusement and something else, something dangerous. “Did you hear what I said?” Her eyes darted between me and the driver. “I didn’t understand. What did you just say?” The car picked up speed, and I noticed the click of the door locks as the driver adjusted his speed. I could feel the change in the air as we turned off the main road, the city’s skyline disappearing behind us. Alina wasn’t saying anything now. She just looked out the window, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Did you understand that?” I asked again, my voice softer now, more curious than anything else. “No,” she replied flatly, still trying to process everything. I smirked. “I told Carlos to take us to my penthouse. Not to the mansion.” Her head snapped toward me, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Your penthouse?" she asked, clearly taken aback. She’d never seen it before. She’d been to the mansion plenty of times, but my penthouse was a different world altogether. A world that was just for me, away from everything else. The car sped forward, and the building’s silhouette came into view. Alina seemed momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in direction. The penthouse wasn’t something I shared with anyone, not even her. Alina opened her mouth to say something, but I silenced her with a sharp look. She fell silent as we drove closer, the tension in the car palpable now. The door to my world was about to open for her, and I knew it would change everything. She wants the truth about the pictures, then she will get it when she gets to my penthouse.Chapter 28 Alina POVThe car ride was quiet, but not the suffocating kind of silence I’d known before. Dante didn’t fill it with idle chatter, nor did he drown it out with music. He simply sat there beside me, his presence enough to stretch the quiet into something steady. His hand never let go of mine. Not once.My eyes wandered out the tinted window as the city blurred past. Towers of glass, steel, and ambition rose high, glinting against the morning light. I knew Dante belonged to this world. He wore it like armor, breathed it like oxygen. I, on the other hand, felt like a stranger in borrowed skin.“Breathe,” he murmured, without looking at me.I turned, startled. “I am.”His lips curved faintly, but his gaze stayed forward. “No, you’re holding it in. Like you’re waiting for the ground to disappear under you. Stop.”I didn’t argue, though my throat tightened. I exhaled, shaky. He squeezed my hand once, wordless, and it grounded me more than I wanted to admit.By the time the car
Alina POVThe first thing I felt when I woke up wasn't sunlight,it was warmth. I blinked my eyes open. Dante’s chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, steady, grounding, the kind of rhythm that could lull me back into sleep if I let it. His arm was slung loosely around my waist, heavy with exhaustion, but not crushing,just holding, just keeping me where he wanted me.For a moment, I didn’t move. I let myself linger, my fingers brushing lightly against his shirt, listening to the way his heartbeat thudded beneath skin and fabric. It was faster than sleep should allow. Maybe he wasn’t fully under either.I tilted my head, studying him in the faint gray light filtering through the curtains. His hair was a dark tangle against the pillow, his jaw rough with stubble, his mouth soft in repose. He looked younger like this, stripped of the edges and fire he carried in the daylight.My lips curved despite myself. He would hate knowing I thought he looked gentle.Carefully, I shifted, untangling
Chapter 26Alina POVI sat across from Dante, watching him fold in on himself, his elbows pressed into his knees, his face hidden in his hands. His damp hair fell forward, dark strands curling against his temples. He looked less like the sharp, commanding man he carried himself as in public and more like something rawer, smaller.For a moment, I wanted to let him sit there. To let the silence punish him. But another part of me,the part that still reached for him in the dark, the part that still clung to him when the world tried to pry us apart,rose up.I crossed the room slowly, my bare feet whispering against the floor. When I reached him, I stopped, standing just in front of him. He didn’t lift his head. He didn’t even flinch.“Dante,” I said softly.He gave no answer.I bent, lowering myself until I was kneeling before him. My hands reached for his wrists, pulling them gently away from his face. He resisted at first, but then his arms dropped, heavy and defeated, and his eyes met m
Alina POVThe ride home was quiet. Dante’s hand was tight on the steering wheel. His jaw flexed with every turn, his eyes locked on the road like he was afraid to look at me. I leaned against the window, my head pounding from all the crying, though inside I wasn’t as broken as I looked. My chest still burned, but not from grief. From fury. From the thrill of watching Barry finally stumble under the weight of my words. He deserved it. Every second of it.The car stopped in front of the house. Dante killed the engine but didn’t move. His hand stayed on the wheel, knuckles white. I waited for him to open my door like he usually did, but he didn’t. He just sat there, staring straight ahead. His silence crawled under my skin.Finally, I pushed the door open myself and stepped out. The night air felt cold and sharp against my damp cheeks. I walked up the steps, heels clicking too loud in the stillness. When I reached the door, I heard his door slam shut. Heavy footsteps followed me.Inside,
Chapter 24Camille POVFor a moment, I swore the kitchen tilted under me. My hand tightened on the counter edge until my knuckles burned white. Barry’s words sat there between us, jagged and raw, refusing to make sense.Is George truly the father of the child? The echo of tires screeching, of Elizabeth’s scream, slammed through me again. My stomach twisted until bile licked at the back of my throat.“What did you just say?” My voice was too thin, stretched like glass about to shatter.Barry dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes red-rimmed from a night without real sleep. He looked frantic, not sharp and calculated the way I was used to. His shirt was untucked, his tie tossed onto the table, his pacing uneven.“I said—” He stopped, his gaze snapping back to me, suspicion flashing there again. “Why are you so… shocked?”I swallowed, throat tight. My mind ran circles, trying to knit the pieces together before he could. If I said the wrong thing,if I let him see too much,it would all
Chapter 23Camille POVThe silence in the lot was suffocating. My ears still rang from the impact, from the crunch of Elizabeth’s car folding in on itself like it had been made of paper instead of steel. Even with the engine off, I could hear it — the echoes of glass raining onto asphalt, the scream that had died too quickly.I sat there, motionless, mask discarded on the passenger seat, my hands pressed against the steering wheel until the leather bit into my palms.I should’ve felt something more than this emptiness. Relief, maybe. Victory. Something sharp and clean to slice through the thick fog that had been choking me since last night. But all I felt was the endless beat of my heart, like a drum counting down to something inevitable.My phone buzzed again. This time it wasn’t Barry. A news alert flashed across the screen.BREAKING: Collision in Downtown District. Woman trapped inside vehicle, emergency services on scene.I clicked it open with trembling fingers. The photo was gra







